Fortnight
by vargrimar
Summary: It's been two weeks since Jamison has seen Satya, and he is quite eager. Junkrat/Symmetra. Light bondage.


"Fuck. Please. Satya, lemme come. You're killing me here."

Jamison has been tied up. Both of his hands have been bound, knotted back behind his head and fastened somewhere to the wooden headboard. His left foot has been captured about the ankle and tied to the bottom post. His peg has been removed, and she's stashed it somewhere he can't quite see. Perhaps if his predicament allowed him to move more than his hips, he might be interested in retrieving it, but the molten attention brought to the hardness between his legs makes him reconsider.

A warm, wet tongue lathers up the side of his cock. It is slow, sensual, and excruciating. She has been doing this for… well, he's lost count of how long, if he's honest. Time matters little when your wife snags you by your trousers and practically drags you into the bedroom after an unfortunately long period of separation due to Overwatch-related antics. His brain tells him it's been an hour, but he's sure his sense of time has been skewed with how fucking good her mouth feels. It has been nothing but teasing the moment she helped him out of his clothes; at first, she'd let him touch her and kiss her and dip two fingers inside of her to feel just how wet and wanting she was, but after that, her insistence at _tending_ to him was something he could not refuse.

And so now, here he is, tied up and eagle spread, aching and hard and so very full. Satya has brought him to the edge twice now, _twice_ , and has retreated each time before she could push him over the cusp. She wears such satisfied smiles at his agony that he swears if he weren't bound to the god damn bed he would shove her against the end of the mattress and fuck her until she screamed. Unfortunately for him, that is not in the cards, and he has to make do with being at her (lack of) mercy.

"C'mon," he says, pushing upward with a strained thrust. "You got no idea how long I been waiting for this. Been wanting you for a damn fortnight. Just—c'mon, please, I ain't got the strength for it."

As if in reply, Satya coaxes the head of his cock between her lips. A shiver quakes through him at the soft heat, and then the flat of her tongue glides across yet another white bead of precum that had been smeared over him from all of her teasing. A gravelly moan pulls out of his throat, and his hands start to reach for her with clenching need, but snap back toward the headboard at the bonds' insistence.

Just as quickly as she'd descended, Satya draws up and traces a finger at the corner of her lips. She sidles forward to straddle his thighs, thick legs draping over his, and she brings herself so incredibly close and yet not close enough. Her body glistens in the sunlight sifting through the bedroom curtains; his eyes climb up from the black thatch of hair that frames the base of his cock up to her taut belly and the enticing fullness of her breasts. With a lusty glint in her golden eyes, she brings her right hand down before her and ghosts the pads of her fingers up the length of him in a slow, measured caress.

"Are you really giving in so soon?" she asks. "And here I thought you had more stamina than that."

"Using my own words against me." He shudders as she cups him in the warmth of her palm. "Now that ain't fair."

Satya swirls her thumb over the tip of his cock, and he can't help but buck into her hand. "Perhaps not. It has been two weeks, after all."

"Yeah, two weeks of hiding out in some dodgy setup in the bloody sticks 'cause of some stupid tipoff. Harder than anything every morning and wanting you, and 'stead all I got's a hand."

"You do remember what we agreed upon, correct?" Her grip tightens around his girth; Jamison's toes curl at the pressure.

"I remember," he says. "I kept me promise. Left me well enough alone. 'Sides, didn't rightly feel like cleaning up messes at the arse crack of dawn."

"Good." Her snicker elates the space behind his ribs in a consuming swell. Her smile is incredible. "I would have been very cross with you otherwise. I always do what you ask of me; I think it only fair the tables be turned once in awhile."

"Not arguing that. All for it, really." Jamison wants to brush his thumb over the little birth mark by her mouth, but his hands remain stuck behind his head, and the only way he could hope to get loose is if she releases him—and he has a feeling that won't happen just yet. "I'm also for you just having a sit on me so I can fuck you like I been wanting to. Or the other way 'round. Y'know, considering all this." He shrugs, exaggerating the extent of his bonds.

A pleased grin curving her mouth, she begins to work him in an even cadence. She loosens her grip toward the base, and then coils it into a tight upward stroke that knits fire through his lower belly. Clenching his fists, Jamison pushes his head back into the pillow and tries to focus on breathing among the swirling stars behind his eyelids. A wet hand is better than nothing, he supposes, but he'd much rather be between her legs.

"If I do as you ask," she says, rubbing the thick of him between her fingers, "then you are not allowed to come until I do."

Jamison breathes into his bicep, muscles taut. "All right. Sure. Agreed. Can't really help you there, though. All tied up."

The warm metal of her prosthetic trails a line up from the blond at his groin up to the plane of his stomach. She leans forward, shimmying herself over top of his cock, her breasts mirroring her every movement. The dark tips of her nipples are too tempting, and a part of him wants to lean up so he can take one into his mouth, but he knows his predicament would prevent it from happening like he'd appreciate, and so he stays put with a whine in his throat.

"You will help plenty as is," she says. Her hips settle in a downward grind, wetness slathering over his girth, and he bites at his lip as she traces his adam's apple with an inquisitive finger. "I've missed how you feel."

"Did you, now?" Jamison can't quite move, but he lifts his right thigh in hopes of catching her off guard. It is only one of two extremities not subjected to knots, and although it will not grant him the leverage he desires, it is just enough to coax her off kilter.

"I did," she replies.

Satya does not miss the opportunity; she corrects her posture with purpose. Leaning back, she shifts her weight directly onto his hips and rocks over top of him in a gradual motion. He can feel his cock twitch beneath the intensity of her heat, and it steeps him in a heady daze. Her polished nails graze a trembling path down his belly, and it takes a great deal of willpower not to shout.

"Did you?" Her voice is soft, low, swathed in a sultry timbre.

"More than anything," he breathes. "You got no idea."

She kisses him. It's not one of her usual kisses; it's needy and savage and _don't you dare leave me_ , and he sighs into her mouth and rocks his hips beneath her as she combs her fingers through his hair. Her teeth tease at his lower lip, her tongue tracing circles where she draws the motion into a suck, and he finds himself wired taut and wanting and desperate to be free of his bonds so he can scoop her up and do whatever he possibly can to make sure she feels loved.

"You're a madman," she whispers against his mouth.

"Yeah, well, you're hitched to him," he says, closing the distance in a short peck. "And he's not whinging about it, neither."

"I missed you very much, you know."

Gently, Satya nuzzles his nose. Her black hair drapes over his forehead and curtains him from the rest of the world, a silken barrier between them and the sunlight soaking through the translucent curtains. Jamison returns the motion, ending it with a soft press against the end of her nose, and when she laughs, he can't help but smile.

"Missed you, too, love," he says. "I say we bribe the ape for some quality mission time together this time around."

She tucks a waterfall of hair behind her shoulder. "Jamison, Winston isn't going to accept bribes. He assigns who would benefit the group the most."

"Yeah, well, I benefit from you." He leans up and kisses her neck, letting his teeth sink down and a tender knead. When she expels a shaky breath, he draws his tongue down in a lazy lick and ends it with a punctuated suck. "And I don't work proper if you're not around."

"Somehow, I do not think he will believe that." Satya lifts herself and arcs back up again, straddling his hips with a teasing grind. "I don't even think _I_ believe that."

Jamison grins and wiggles his fingers at her from behind his head. "Lemme go, then. I'll get right to work. Maybe that'll convince you."

"Mm, not just yet." With an agonizing slowness, she lifts herself up and guides his cock toward her with her palm. "On the second round, perhaps. I am not quite ready to let you loose."

"Let me loose?" He pulls a sharp inhale when she brings the very tip of him against her. It's a playful gesture of pushing him close, _almost_ inside, but then maneuvering him to the side and flush with her clit instead.

Squeezing his fists, he gives a small thrust to let her know he's ready, he really is, he wants her down on top of him, but he knows it's going to be at her pace. God, he's not even inside of her yet and he can _feel_ how incredibly wet she is. It sends his entirety into a sparking mess of _please just get on me fucking hell_ and he gnaws at his bottom lip with mounting need.

"Yes," she says. "I think it's an appropriate term. You happen to have an insatiable appetite when you return. Not that I am not guilty of such a thing."

Gently, she allows him in. The head of his cock parts her and starts to sink inside. Wetness soaks him over, and he nearly cries out at how tight she is. He desperately wants to thrust up into her, but he keeps himself still and starts to wring his hands instead. The crude metal of his prosthetic anchors him back to reality for just a moment as she gradually settles down over the rest of his length, and it's when she's taken him in completely that he allows himself to grind out a moan.

"My thoughts exactly." Her voice is breathy, her palms gliding up to frame his hipbones, and she starts to slide upward.

"You're so bloody good." Jamison rocks against her in reply, _god no don't climb off not yet_ , the sheer heat flaying at his nerves. "Fuck, you're perfect."

"And you're exquisite," she murmurs.

Satya works back down against in a rough thrust, and Jamison does his best to meet it. He wishes more than ever that his bonds were undone so he could grab her by her incredible hips and shove her down on top of him, but she seems content to let him suffer, and so suffer he does. The way her muscles squeeze and clench on the way down make him shiver, and no matter how much he tries to contribute, his attempts are met with erratic pacing that only serves as pleasure, not satisfaction.

With short breaths and a lust-laced stare, Satya leans over him and continues the awkward rhythm. He knows why she's doing it; she wants to get him close again, just once more, and then she's going to pull back and work on herself and make him watch. He's not adverse to it, not at all, but god, he wants to feel her as she comes. Humming in his throat, he thrusts upward and attempts to persuade her into another pace through his own means—he knows the current one is not to her liking, he _knows_ —and eventually, she seems to acquiesce, and then he's slicking through her in one fluid motion as she slides down over top of him, squeezing him so very tight, and just when he thinks he starts to see stars, Satya begins to draw back the speed.

"Don't get up," he breathes. "I wanna feel."

After a brief pause, she slides a finger between her legs and begins to rub at her clit. Her eyes are hot, molten, half-lidded with lust. "After me," she reminds him.

"Of course," he says. "Wouldn't have it no other way."

Her smile is gorgeous, and he wishes he could frame it back in his mind where he'd always see.

As she indulges herself, Jamison continues shallow thrusts with what little room he has. He knows he could probably pry apart the bonds at his wrists through his prosthetic's strength alone so he could help her further, but he refrains from entertaining the idea for too long. She'll release him when she's ready, and then he'll repay her in kind.

Biting at his lip, he relishes how wet she is and the how it feels to fill her to the hilt. Her finger's circling hastens, and from the cinching movements around him, he can only assume she's getting close. Pressing his tongue between his teeth, he digs his heel into the mattress and attempts to outmaneuver the ties for better leverage; he coils tight and thrusts in with as much vigor as he can manage.

It isn't long before her voice starts to fill the room. Amongst slick heat and clenching muscles, Jamison curls his fingers into fists and feels her spasm around him in wracking waves. With a groan in the thick of his throat, his willpower completely eroded, the rolling chants of his name coax him right toward the cusp; she brings herself down on top of him to meet his desperate thrusts, and then her shuddering aftershocks shove him straight over.

Release rockets from the base of his spine and pleasure clambers through him in a piercing lance. He shoves himself in as deep as he can, the whole of him tightening up in a coiled spring, and the lingering tremors of her knead bursting heat through his nerves as everything unwinds with consuming intensity. He thinks he breathes her name, but the sun is in his eyes and she's engulfing him and everything feels too fantastic and then he's slumped back against the mattress, panting, sweat coating his spine and down his thighs.

Satya drapes herself over him. Her arms snake under the pillow, and her head settles beneath his chin. Several moments pass, and Jamison has the opportunity to catch his breath once more. When he slowly bleeds back into reality, he feels the soft movements of her lips at his collarbone.

"I missed that as well," she murmurs. "Although I thought I explicitly stated after me."

It takes Jamison a moment or two to register the connotation behind the words rather than interpreting them as a meaningless string of consonants and vowels. "But it was," he insists. "I waited."

"Not long." She lifts her head and catches his gaze. "You were very eager."

"Hell, can you blame me?" To emphasize his plight, he gives her a light thrust. "I got you right on top."

A smirk edges at her mouth. "It has been two weeks."

"A whole fucking fortnight." Jamison rolls back against the pillow and makes a frustrated noise in the back of his mouth. "Never doing that again. Never. Can't stand it. Don't care what you say, I'm gonna bribe the ape."

"I hardly think that's necessary." A metal finger pops his nose. "We will be working together on our next mission."

Jamison eyes her from halfway in the pillow. "And how long's that gonna be?"

Satya snickers behind her hand. "Do you have any guesses?"

"A whole fucking fortnight?"

"If you say that the entire time, I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

"Really?" Jamison leans up and pecks her on the chin. "I got plenty of ideas. Untie me, and I'll fuck you through an entire fortnight."

Smiling, she gives him a quick kiss. "Cleanup first."

"Killing me here, love," he says.

"Oh, I highly doubt that."

With care, Satya lifts herself off of him and grabs a pair of his undershorts to tuck between her legs as she wobbles her way to the washroom. Breathing in a heavy sigh, Jamison eyes his stretched leg and the knots at his wrists, and contemplates the possibility of bringing such things along during their stay at wherever Winston would order for their deployment. He's always enjoyed dolling her up with bindings, and while this particular ordeal would be out of the question, he's sure she could come up with something. She's remarkably clever—and resourceful to boot.

Satya slinks back into the room after a minute or two, disheveled and pleasantly bare. He lets his eyes wander among her curves as she draws up to the bed and begins to undo his bonds, starting with his ankle and then up to his wrists. As the taut pressure around his hands slacks, he sprawls his arms out and sucks in a satisfied breath.

A whole fucking fortnight, he thinks.

Jamison can't wait.


End file.
